Deb's Cat Desexing.

Deb's Cat Desexing. Helping & desexing street cat's and people that can't afford full price desexing in Wagga Wagga area... I live in Junee now.

I also help and re home cat's in need when I have room. ❤️🐈🐈‍⬛

30/05/2026

Has anyone tried these?

Copy & Pasted and sahring ❤️ FOR decades, communities have been trapped in the same cycle when it comes to unowned and s...
30/05/2026

Copy & Pasted and sahring ❤️
FOR decades, communities have been trapped in the same cycle when it comes to unowned and semi-owned cats:
complaints, trapping, killing… and then more cats appearing.

Why?
Because killing cats does not address the reason the population exists in the first place.

Where there is food, shelter and human support, new cats simply move into the vacant territory and continue breeding. something widely referred to as the “vacuum effect”.

This is one of the key reasons mass killing programs repeatedly fail to achieve long-term population reduction.

Trap-Neuter-Return (TNR) works differently.

Cats are humanely trapped, desexed, vaccinated where possible, and returned to their territory so breeding stops over time.

Kittens and social cats can also be removed for rehoming where resources allow.

Importantly, studies involving TNR programs have shown reductions in shelter intake and euthanasia rates when sustained sterilisation programs are implemented.

And yes, wildlife concerns matter. But decades of broad-scale killing have not stopped cats existing in the environment either.

In fact, stable desexed colonies are often less disruptive than constantly shifting populations fuelled by breeding and territory turnover.

Desexed female cats no longer have the biological drive associated with producing and feeding kittens, which can reduce hunting pressure over time. Well-fed, managed cats also tend to roam less and become less active than cats struggling to survive and raise litters.

The reality is many of these cats are not truly “wild”.

They exist because humans feed them, abandon them, fail to desex owned cats, or allow uncontrolled breeding to continue.

Communities then expect shelters and pounds to endlessly “deal with” the consequences through killing.

Mass euthanasia has been tried for decades across the world and yet the cats keep coming.

That alone tells us the approach is failing.

Trap-Neuter-Return is not about pretending the issue does not exist.

It is about addressing the source of the problem humanely, practically and sustainably instead of relying on endless cycles of killing that have repeatedly failed to stop cat overpopulation.

How a society chooses to treat its most vulnerable animals says a great deal about the values of that society.

Copy & Pasted...She was sick. And her body was tired.The streets had already taken more from her than most of us could i...
30/05/2026

Copy & Pasted...

She was sick. And her body was tired.

The streets had already taken more from her than most of us could imagine.

But when those tiny kittens needed her, none of that mattered.

She gave warmth when she was cold. She gave comfort when she was exhausted. She gave nourishment when she barely had enough for herself.

A mother's love is one of the most powerful forces in nature. It doesn't ask what it will get back. It simply gives.

Sometimes until there is nothing left to give.

The little kittens may never know just how much was sacrificed so that they could survive. But because of her, three tiny souls had a chance.

And perhaps that's what love truly is:

Giving everything you can, simply because someone you love needs it. 🐾❤️

Copy & Pasted... “I couldn’t see when my person disappeared forever… but I heard the silence she left behind, and someho...
28/05/2026

Copy & Pasted...

“I couldn’t see when my person disappeared forever… but I heard the silence she left behind, and somehow that hurt more than blindness ever did.”

My name is Pixie.

I’m a small gray cat with one torn ear, a bent tail, and eyes that stopped seeing years ago.

People often think blindness must be the hardest thing about my life.

It isn’t.

The hardest thing is learning the difference between temporary silence… and the silence that means someone you love isn’t coming back.

I used to live in a tiny apartment with an old woman.

To other people, it probably looked ordinary.

Worn furniture.

Soft blankets.

Too many books.

A kitchen clock ticking somewhere in the background.

But to me, it was an entire world.

I knew every corner without seeing it.

The rug beside the couch where sunlight warmed my fur each afternoon.

The tiny crack in the floor near the kitchen.

The sound of rain tapping the window.

The humming refrigerator.

The way the bedroom smelled different in winter.

And most importantly…

I knew her.

Not by sight.

By everything else.

Her footsteps.

Slow and gentle.

Her left foot always landed slightly heavier than the right.

I knew the scent of coffee before sunrise.

Peppermint candies hidden in her pocket.

Soap.

Laundry.

Hand lotion.

The way sadness changed the air around her.

Every morning she tapped my bowl twice with a spoon.

Tap.

Tap.

That was breakfast.

That was safety.

That was love.

Then her fingers rested softly on my head.

“There you are, Pixie girl,” she’d whisper.

I never saw her smile.

But I learned smiles have sounds.

I knew when she smiled.

I knew when she cried quietly after thinking nobody noticed.

On those evenings, I climbed into her lap and tucked my head beneath her chin.

Her heartbeat always slowed afterward.

Then she whispered:

“You found me again.”

Of course I did.

Blind cats still know where lonely hearts hide.

Years passed like that.

Quiet.

Simple.

Beautiful.

Then one morning…

No spoon tapped my bowl.

No coffee smell drifted from the kitchen.

No soft footsteps crossed the apartment.

Only silence.

Strange silence.

Heavy silence.

I walked carefully through the rooms.

Counting beneath my paws.

Rug.

Wood floor.

Cold spot.

Doorframe.

Bedroom.

Her breathing sounded wrong.

Thin.

Uneven.

Like paper folding in on itself.

Her hand hung over the side of the bed.

I pressed my nose against her fingers.

Cold.

Still.

I meowed softly.

Nothing.

Louder.

Still nothing.

Hours later came unfamiliar voices.

Fast footsteps.

Fear.

A rolling bed.

Doors opening.

Closing.

Someone lifted me carefully.

I didn’t fight much.

Old cats understand things younger cats don’t.

Sometimes life changes without asking permission.

Then…

The apartment disappeared.

And so did her scent.

That was the first time my heart broke.

Not loudly.

Some heartbreak happens quietly.

The shelter was overwhelming.

Dogs barking.

Metal doors clanging.

People speaking fast.

Everything smelled unfamiliar.

Someone placed me in a cage with clean blankets.

The blankets were soft.

But they weren’t home.

Days passed.

Visitors stopped.

Then moved on.

“She’s blind?”

“Poor thing.”

“How old?”

“Does she bump into walls?”

Their voices carried pity.

Never curiosity.

Nobody asked who I had been before arriving there.

Nobody asked about the lonely woman I stayed beside for years.

Nobody asked how many nights I spent comforting someone grieving.

Nobody asked whether I knew how to love.

Only what was wrong with me.

I hated hearing:

Poor thing.

I wasn’t broken.

I was surviving.

There’s a difference.

By the fourth day…

I stopped eating.

Not because I wanted to die.

Because eating felt pointless when nobody tapped the bowl anymore.

Then one afternoon…

I heard something unusual.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

A tiny stone rolled across the floor outside my cage.

I lifted my head immediately.

The shelter noise faded around that sound.

The stone rolled again.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

I followed it.

Without thinking.

Without fear.

Then came a small voice.

Soft.

Young.

“She heard me.”

The boy sounded surprised.

Not sad.

Not pitying.

Just amazed.

He rolled the stone again.

And again.

Every time, I followed.

The next day…

He returned.

His name was Noah.

He smelled like grass, pencil shavings, laundry detergent, and peanut butter crackers.

He never forced affection.

Never grabbed.

Never spoke too loudly.

He simply sat near me.

Rolling that tiny stone.

Waiting.

Learning my language instead of expecting me to learn his.

Days turned into weeks.

I started eating again.

Then grooming myself.

Then purring.

The shelter workers noticed.

One said softly:

“She’s coming back.”

No.

I wasn’t coming back.

I was discovering another reason to stay.

Then one afternoon I heard papers sliding across a desk.

Adults speaking quietly.

That careful tone humans use before something important.

Noah stayed unusually silent.

I knew silence.

Silence often comes before goodbye.

The cage opened.

I stepped backward.

Fear rose inside me.

Then…

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

The tiny stone rolled across the floor.

Not away.

Toward him.

I took one step.

Then another.

Blind.

Old.

Uncertain.

Following trust.

Following kindness.

Following the only person who had spoken to me like I was whole.

When I reached him, his hands lifted me carefully.

Not like rescuing something fragile.

Like holding family.

His voice shook slightly.

“There you are, Pixie.”

And deep inside me…

Something loosened.

Years of grief.

Fear.

Waiting.

Loss.

The invisible ache of being left behind.

Noah took me home.

His house sounded different.

The stairs needed counting.

The floors smelled unfamiliar.

The refrigerator hummed at another pitch.

But every morning…

I heard it.

Tap.

Tap.

My food bowl.

I found breakfast.

I found sunlight.

I found his backpack abandoned near the couch.

And some nights, when Noah stayed awake too long…

When sadness sat quietly beside him…

I climbed onto his chest and tucked my head beneath his chin.

His heartbeat slowed.

Then came the whisper I already knew by heart.

“You found me again.”

Of course I did.

I’m Pixie.

I cannot see faces.

I cannot see rooms.

I cannot see the world.

But I know this:

Love leaves footprints louder than sight ever could.

And sometimes the souls people think are broken…

Are the very ones who teach others how to heal.

❤️

I took this beautiful cat on yesterday and as I only have a crate she is not liking it 1 bit so im wondering if anyone w...
28/05/2026

I took this beautiful cat on yesterday and as I only have a crate she is not liking it 1 bit so im wondering if anyone would foster her please? I'm just trying to track her paperwork down then I can adopt her out. She is 8 yr's old and deserves a loving indoor home not a crate in a shed. Pic's are from her previous house. Located Junee nsw

Copy & Pasted... Stray cats are often treated like a nuisance before anyone stops to ask how they ended up outside in th...
28/05/2026

Copy & Pasted...

Stray cats are often treated like a nuisance before anyone stops to ask how they ended up outside in the first place.

Many were abandoned. Some were born outdoors and learned to survive however they could. Others once belonged to families before being dumped, lost, or forgotten.

People see a cat digging through trash or hiding beneath a porch and assume it “belongs outside,” but survival for stray cats is rarely peaceful. Hunger, disease, injuries, harsh weather, predators, cars, and human cruelty are all part of daily life.

For a frightened stray cat, even a small act of kindness can completely change its future. A bowl of food. Fresh water. Calling a rescue. Offering shelter during extreme temperatures. Supporting TNR programs. Those things matter.

Sometimes compassion starts by seeing an animal not as a problem to remove, but as a life trying desperately to survive.

Dan Kennewell was the highes bidder & lucky winner @ $25 🥳 Time for amother auction 🥳Auction No 2... Auction finishes Su...
27/05/2026

Dan Kennewell was the highes bidder & lucky winner @ $25 🥳
Time for amother auction 🥳
Auction No 2...
Auction finishes Sunday 31st May @ 10am... item can be posted at winners expense, local pick up at junee or Wagga or i can deliver when I go glbn or Albury or anywhere in between 🤪 all money raised goes straight to vet's account 💯 if you pay cash then I transfer from my account and send you a screenshot 💕 the next few auctions money will be going to the Vet's pictured 💗 you can also donate to the vet at any time just please use correct reference shown 🙏

Ellis Grange was the highest bidder and lucky winner @ $40 🥳 Time for some more auctions 🥳This beautiful package was wo...
27/05/2026

Ellis Grange was the highest bidder and lucky winner @ $40 🥳 Time for some more auctions 🥳
This beautiful package was won by the wonderful Kylie Reed Donnelley and Kylie has donated it back to be re-auctioned ❤️ so here we go 🚨
Auction No 1...
Great winter package, curled up on the lounge with a beverage and a book under a beautiful blanket plus a wonderful warm scarf 🥰 oh and don't forget the cat on your lap (cat not provided) 😉
Auction finishes Sunday 31st May @ 9am... item can be posted at winners expense, local pick up at junee or Wagga or i can deliver when I go glbn or Albury or anywhere in between 🤪 all money raised goes straight to vet's account 💯 if you pay cash then I transfer from my account and send you a screenshot 💕 the next few auctions money will be going to the Vet's pictured 💗 you can also donate to the vet at any time just please use correct reference shown 🙏

26/05/2026

Prime example of why an ear tip prevents unnecessary stress of re trapping then sedation. If ear tipped people can see from a distance and not trap.

Bit of an update on Mr Ziggy the big w mall carpark cat 🥰 Ziggy had pneumonia back in Feb not long after Fee adopted him...
26/05/2026

Bit of an update on Mr Ziggy the big w mall carpark cat 🥰 Ziggy had pneumonia back in Feb not long after Fee adopted him and life was grim but as you can see his made a full recovery 😍 Fee messaged me today with an update and I love happy endings ❤️ thankyou Fee for giving Ziggy the home he deserves 💕
This is what Fee wrote ❤️
Hi Deb, after the slowest of slow introductions. Ziggy aka Old Man has settled into home life with his 6 other cat room mates.
Hard to believe i have 7 cat's, all getting along reasonably well 🥳🫶
Ziggy has put on weight, he looks good. He is literally a lap cat and just wants to love. He's very loyal and devoted. He has a cute little jacket that he wears at night for extra warmth. I have been trying to get some good pictures of him to forward onto you.
From street cat to pampered senoir boi. He's loving life.
Thank you for rescuing him ❤️

Address

Lisgar Street
Junee, NSW
2663

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